


The One I Want

by smuttyscribbles



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, First Time, virgin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-07
Updated: 2014-09-07
Packaged: 2018-02-16 12:41:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2270079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smuttyscribbles/pseuds/smuttyscribbles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You're not sure what exactly it is that draws you to the class nerd Ashton Irwin, but you know whatever it is, you never want it to change.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The One I Want

There is something so utterly sexy about intelligence. When a person knows something about a complex topic and can speak about it with such a confident enthusiasm, one that lights their eyes and forms smiles on their mouths, you found it fascinating. You couldn’t help but be attracted to that. Which was probably the reason that you had been fantasising about Ashton Irwin since first period, when he’d done an in depth presentation on genetic engineering during biology. He’d been so sure of what he was saying, so keen to express his interest in it, that he didn’t stutter once. You had been captivated by him then; though you have to admit that the glasses and the easily flushed cheeks might just do something for you too.

 

So you may currently be sitting at lunch, surrounded by your nattering friends who are trying to decided which party to arrive at tonight, while you stare across the room at the table in the corner. Ashton’s sitting with his three friends, all of whom are in the year below you, talking animatedly about what looks to be a book, waving it in his hand as he speaks. There is a smile on his face that you rarely get to see, one that reveals a dimple in his cheek and flashes straight teeth. In the year you’ve been at this school, you’ve seen that smile only twice when his friends weren’t around; once when you asked him borrow a pen in Ms Green’s math class and the other today, in biology, when you asked him a question on gene targeting that he answered flawlessly. That was it, two smiles in a year, you don’t get more than that, not with the way the people in your grade treated him.

Ashton is sweet and shy, easy prey for the jocks with alpha male complexes and the girls who liked to think he wasn’t man enough to acknowledge. The girls and boys that were technically your friends. You had fallen into the ‘popular’ group by accident after your arrival. They liked how honest you were, how you didn’t take bullshit and you didn’t follow blindly. They kind of just decided that you were going to be a part of their group and gave you little choice. You weren’t interested in being pigeon-holed into the bitchy, selfish group at first, never wanted to make the others in your grade feel lower than you, but you got to know what the girls were actually like outside of school and found yourself liking who they were when they didn’t have to try and prove something. You didn’t change yourself for them; you still kept your good grades and your no-nonsense attitude. You did what you wanted and you held a little influence over the girls. They listened when you told them to shut up if they were getting out of hand, but that didn’t stop them from starting in the first place and god only knows what they were like when you weren’t around.

The boys were a whole other story. They did exactly what they wanted and did nothing but laugh at you when you tried to get them to pack it in.

“Hello! Earth to (Y/N)” Lacey waves her hand before your eyes, getting in the way of the sight of Ashton throwing his head back with a laugh. You hadn’t noticed before just how different he was with his mates. He seemed so happy and relaxed and knowing that he’d arrive to your next class completely withdrawn and unhappy, just because of a group of twats, made your chest ache.

“Jesus, is she broken?” Michelle raises an eyebrow at you, giving the other girls at your table a confused look before she threw a glance over her shoulder, in the direction you were staring.

“Huh?” you blink, tearing your eyes away. Lacey scoffs loudly, an indulgent smile on her face as Michelle, Zoey and Kara gape at you as if they caught you doing something illegal. In fact you’re pretty sure they’d have less of a reaction if you had actually been arrested. You throw a look to the other side of the table, glad that the guys aren’t paying attention, too busy laughing obnoxiously and throwing food at each other like the animals they are.

“Were you seriously staring at Irwin?” Kara asks, puffing her cheeks out as if the thought made her want to vomit.

You roll your eyes, wondering why she had to be so dramatic, “So? He’s cute.”

“He is not cute!” she yelled then quickly looked around to see if anyone had heard. The boys cast you a quick look, interest rising but not enough for them to stop their games to listen.

“No, (Y/N), you can’t!” Zoey whispers, shaking her head wildly, “It’s social suicide! The boys will tear you a new one for even talking to him” The idea that you would let the opinions of the animals beside you shape your actions almost made you nauseous.

Lacey huffs, “Since when does (Y/N) care about what the guys think?”

You smile, grateful for the small show of support. “Exactly, this isn’t Mean Girls.” You say before looking over at Ashton again, watching him listen to one of his friends talk. “Y’know what…I’m going to go over and talk to him.” You were never good with patience and if something interested you, you needed to know all about it. Sitting here staring wasn’t good for anybody or anything.

“You cannot be serious.” Michelle deadpanned, looking as if the world as she knew it was collapsing around her.

You laugh, taking a swig of your water before pushing your abandoned lunch away from you. “I am.” You shrug, standing up and wiping your hands on your jeans. Out of the corner of your eye you can see the boys peering at you, always so intrigued by what they couldn’t have. Always wanting to control every situation too, you had royally fucked up their plans for complete domination when you had arrived and not been scared or infatuated enough to care what they thought. 

“What are you going to say?” Zoey asks, perfectly arched brows raised almost all the way to her hairline. You can tell that as much as she disapproves of your choice, she can’t help but admire your balls. Zoey is the kind of girl to wither away waiting for a guy to talk to her rather than make the first move. Though that was because she has a penchant for arseholes who treated girls like shit anyway.

You shrug again, “Dunno yet, guess I’ll just come up with something on the way over.” you step away from your chair and tug your crimson blouse down just a little.

“Good luck.” Lacey snorts, popping open her compact and checking so make sure her bright pink lipstick was still in place. You smile at the sight of her pouting at herself before taking the first steps towards the back of the room.

“Where is she going?” you hear Kyle, Lacey’s boyfriend ask, but you block out whatever else is said as you wander passed tables of nosy students.

You always attract attention wherever you go. Your mum says it’s always been that way, even when you were a kid. You have no idea what causes people to become so interested in your life, but you can’t say it isn’t annoying, here you are trying to figure out how to make a move on a guy and you have half the school watching. You don’t meet anyone’s eyes as you stroll towards Ashton and his friends, your biker boots clunking against the floor as you move. As you get closer, you see that the book that had been in his hand, but is now lying on the table, is actually a graphic novel and one of The Walking Dead compendiums. You send a quick thank you up to whatever God decided to give you a break today, because if there was something you knew, it was zombies.

His friend with the dark hair spots you first, blinking slowly at you before he smacks Ashton in the arm. The other boys are facing away, but from the way their shoulders straighten up they’re interested in whatever is going on. Ashton frowns, looking towards the boy that nudged him, who not so subtly jerks his head in your direction just as you reach the table. Ashton looks towards you, his own expression one of completely shock.

“Hi, Ashton.” You grin. The two boys in front of you whip around, then look at each other as they try to smother their smiles.

“(Y/N)” Ashton shakes the confusion off of his face, “Is e-everything o-okay?”

You nod and move to the seat beside him, sitting yourself down as though you were meant to be there. “Yeah, everything is great.” You give the younger guys a small wave, “I’m (Y/N) by the way.”

“Oh we know!” The one to your right snorts as the other, slightly younger looking blonde sniggers.

Ashton glares at them, “This is Calum, Luke and Michael.” He introduces, nodding to each one. “Please i-ignore them.” The slight stutter is something he does when he is nervous, like how some people smile or others scratch at themselves. It comes and it goes, but it’s heavy when around the jocks who make it their mission to render him unable to string together a sentence.

You chuckle, “Not sure I can.” You say, turning the graphic novel in your direction, “I think volume one is my favourite, I always love the part when the people find out just how much their life has changed. Plus it tends to be more gruesome, just to shock you.”

“You like The Walking Dead?” Michael asks.

“Yeah, is it bad of me to admit that I kinda prefer the show though?”

Ashton shakes his head, “No, t-that’s what we’ve be discussing. I p-prefer the show t-too.” He smiles at you and then ducks his head as his cheeks flush pink. His square framed glasses slip down the bridge of his nose and he pushes them back up with his middle finger. The entire act so cute that you have to bite your bottom lip to keep from telling him just that.

“It’s not quite the same without Daryl either.” You shrug, “Plus I prefer how the relationships are portrayed in the show.”

Luke hums quietly, snatching up the apple on his tray and taking a bite, “I like you.” He grins, pointing at you with the fruit.

Another laugh escapes your mouth. You understand why Ashton laughs so much with these boys; they have an aura of fun and nonjudgmental surrounding them. They’re made up of easy smiles and free kindness. “That’s good.” You say, “I like you too.”

“You hear that.” Luke nudges Calum, “She likes me.” Calum scoffs and rolls his eyes.

“That’s cause she has no idea just how annoying you are.” He grins playfully and Luke gives a theatrical gasp.

“I-I-Is there s-something you need?” Ashton asks, clearing his throat as his hand runs nervously through his hair.

“Actually yes.” You say, you cast a look to the other boys who are watching, all with very interested looks on their faces. Their eyes bat back and forth between you and Ashton then between each other, “I was just wondering if you were doing anything tonight.” All their mouths drop open.

“M-me?” Ashton asks, fingers pointing towards his chest. Your gaze lingers on his hand a second too long. He has huge hands, with long, nimble fingers. You know there are small calluses on his fingers, that you’re pretty sure are caused by playing an instrument, and you can’t help but imagine how they would feel against your skin.

You nod, “Yeah. I was just wondering if you wanted to come over and study, your presentation this morning raised some questions. I’m having a little trouble with a few things.” You shouldn’t really lie, but you know it’s the easiest way to get him over.

“Come over?” he mutters, though you’re not quite sure whether it’s aimed at you or to himself.

“That’s definitely what she said.” Calum looks at Ashton and widens his eyes pointedly, so obvious that you chuckle quietly to yourself.

“T-tonight?” he looks so confused, as if he’s waiting for you to change your mind.

“Yeah, we can study and order pizza.” You flip your hair over your shoulders, “Unless you’re busy that is, it’s a little late notice being Friday and all.”

He looks towards his friends, his mouth opening before they all frantically shake their heads at him. “Um…no, I don’t have plans.” His teeth worry his bottom lip as he lies. He obviously had something going on with these guys that he was going to drop for you and that made a spark of hope flare in your chest.

“You sure?”

He nods vehemently, “Y-yeah, I’m sure.”

You reach out and squeeze his hand, “Great.” You beam, “Do you want to meet me by my locker at the end of the day or do you need to go home first?”

“I’ll meet you.” He licks his bottom lip and your eyes follow the movement of his tongue. You don’t know how it’s taken you so long to notice just how attractive he is but you do know that you’re developing a legitimate crush on him right now.

“I can’t wait.” You look him in the eyes and then at his lips again, making a point of nibbling the corner of your own. “I’ll see you in English.” You take your hand away from his, letting your fingers stroke softly over his skin. He shudders slightly and gives you a wobbly smile.

“S-see you.”

You say bye to the boys and strut confidently back across the room, where your whole table have obviously been watching you the entire time. The boys look gobsmacked and the girls seem almost in awe, though struggling with the idea of you chasing the boy who does all of his work, reads for fun and once vomited with nerves during a dodge ball session in gym.

“The fuck do you think you’re doing?” Justin spits as soon as you sit back down. His face is screwed up in disgust, all those ‘perfect’ sculpted features suddenly don’t look so nice. He rolls his huge shoulders, pushing his chest out somewhat, in a way that makes you shake your head in disbelief. Boys can be fucking idiots.

You tilt your head at him and raise an eyebrow, “Right now I’m sitting down.” You say, “What are you doing?” your voice is dripping with the sarcasm that comes so easy to you. He hates it.

“Why did you go over there?” Marc asks, calmly this time but you can see right through him.

“I wanted to talk to Ashton.” You grab your water and swallow some down.

Zoey leans towards you, eyes wide with interest, “What did you say?” she looks nervously towards the boys, as if hoping they can’t see that she cares more about your pulling techniques than anything else.

“I asked him over to mine tonight to study.” You shrug and Lacey shakes her head incredulously.

“No originality.” She teases.

Ryan pipes up from his seat at the end, looking stoic with his blank features. You like to think of Ryan as darkness. He has dark hair, dark eyes and a dark soul. “We’re going to Carla’s party tonight.” His voice is a deep rasp that makes him sound twenty years older than he actually is. Paired with his large, muscular build and apparent lack of emotion, there aren’t many people willing to mess with him. He is the shepherd who expects everyone around him to be sheep; you had thrown a spanner in the works when you came along and refused.

“Have fun.” You smirk.

He blinks slowly, “You’re coming with us.”

You flex the fingers of your right hand under the table, feeling your anger simmer. You clear your throat and stare him down, “No, I’m going home to hang out with a nice boy.”

All the other boys scoff, “A fucking faggot you mean.” Justin laughs.

“Hey!” you snap, “Watch your mouth.” You couldn’t stand that word, almost as much as you couldn’t stand Justin. The boys unfortunately came along with the being friends with the girls, if you could trade them in and not have them around completely you would be happy, but it just didn’t work that way.

“Guys, come on.” Kyle groans. He’s the only one that tends to try and placate things, what with you and Lacey being so close. He knows that Lacey will choose your side whenever the guys are being dicks and then that just makes it awkward for him. “Lets just go to class.”

The bell rings just as he says it and you’re thankful. Everyone in the lunch hall is standing, packing up their things and strolling off. No one seems to be in a rush and you couldn’t blame them. The periods after lunch were just getting in the way of your chance to go home and on a Friday that’s all anyone wants to do. You didn’t mind the lessons usually but having something to look forward to after they were over was making you wish the hours away.

“Hey.” A hand grabs your wrist as you turn away to leave, the grip tight enough to still you yet not tight enough to be uncomfortable. You turn back as your group files out, to frown at Ryan. His jaw is clenching and unclenching but he heaves a sigh, “I’m sorry okay.” He say, surprising you, “I really want you to come out with us tonight.”

You stare at the place he’s caught you by and he quickly lets go. Ryan had hinted at being interested in you a few times, but never outright, and you were not interested in getting involved with someone who enjoyed either inflicting or watching the mental and physical torment of others. You would never date a bully.

“I’ve got plans now, no one told me they had decided on a party until afterwards. I’ll go to the next one.”

His eyes narrow but he says nothing as he follows you to class. The room is mostly full when you get there and you search quickly for Ashton whose sitting at a desk in the middle of the room, pens and notepads ready, flicking through the chapter of Romeo and Juliet that you had to read for last night’s homework. He’s not smiling now and his shoulders are hunched as he tries to make himself invisible. It doesn’t work. Justin shoves by him, pretending not to notice as his bag smacks Ashton in the chest and then Marc shoves everything on his desk to the floor. Your temper rises suddenly, your fists clenching as you wish for nothing more than to be able to punch them both.

“What the fuck.” You snap, but they just smirk at you as they find themselves a seat. Ashton raises his head and looks at you, his whole face red. There’s a sadness in his honey coloured eyes that you want to wipe out. You crouch down and pick up his books as he leans down for his pens, your faces are close enough that you can whisper, “Sorry about them.” Before you stand and place his stuff on his desk.

“S’kay.” He mutters, giving you a tiny smile until Ryan steps right up beside you, looking down at him with a sneer.

“Fucking pathetic.” He says, then looks at you, “Sit down and forget about this twat.”

Ashton’s shoulders jerk at the insult as if it’s a physical hit and a lump rises in your throat for the first time. You’ve never liked seeing how they treated people, but now, with Ashton, it’s almost as if you can feel the anguish they cause him as though it’s your own. You don’t even know why they do it. What had even started all of this?

You grit your teeth and sit down at the free desk to Ashton’s right which means Ryan has to sit behind you. You sit through the entire lesson trying to keep your cool. You’re not all that great at controlling your anger but after being expelled from your old school for fighting, you couldn’t let your parents down again. You also didn’t want to leave this place, cause although there are three huge tools, there is also a lot of kind, decent people that you get on well with.

“Still up for later?” you mutter quietly after the hour is through as everyone is ready to get to their last period. You and Ashton have different classes, so you were praying the guys hadn’t scared him off.

He gulps, “Y-y-yeah.” He says before rushing out of the room. You watch him go, wondering what it was going to take to get the boys to stop acting the way they were. Even if they started behaving like normal people, you wouldn’t expect Ashton to ever forgive them. So if something, anything happened between the two of you, things were going to have to change.

“(Y/N), hurry up.” Marc calls from the door. The two of you have history class while the others, who have already disappeared, have math.

“Yeah, yeah.” You sigh, catching up to him. He throws an arm over your shoulders and leads the way.

You can’t stop fidgeting throughout the entire lesson. Your fingers tapping against your desk and your knee jigging violently under it, a habit you’ve inherited from your father. You know you’re going to rush to your locker as soon as the bell goes and you hope that Ashton will be there waiting. His class is closer than yours, but so is Ryan’s and Justin’s, and the last thing you want is for them to frighten him away.

You’re out of your seat as soon as the bell rings, getting stuck behind the other students desperate for home as you rush out. Marc calls for you, but you ignore him, not interested in pretending to be great mates. Your boots squeak against the ground as you rush to your locker at the other end of the building, feeling suddenly as if you’re going to come across something bad when you got there.

You are right.

When you finally get within view of your locker, you see that Ashton is there. Justin has him slammed against it, one fist pinning him in place as the other pulls back and then flies forward, colliding with Ashton’s cheek. A yell tears from your mouth in surprise, because this is the last thing you expected them to do. Sure, they pushed him around sometimes, but you’ve never witnessed them outright punching someone in the face. There are people filling the halls, students that see and rush pass, not bothering to try and stop Justin as he hits Ashton again because most humans have the inability to put others before themselves. You race down the hall, weaving in and out of the stragglers who are trying to get away from the scene as soon as possible. Ryan is standing, arms crossed over his chest as he watches Justin doing his dirty work, a smirk on his face.

“You stay away from her.” he says as Justin smacks his fist into Ashton’s stomach, making him double over in pain. He lets go of Ashton’s t-shirt and laughs as he falls to the floor. “You’re not fucking good enough for her.” Ryan growls.

“Hey!” you slam into him, pushing him with all your strength. You obviously take him by surprise because he stumbles back, his mouth opening in shock. “What the hell are you doing?” you reach for Justin next just as Marc rushes up beside you. Your hand moves before your brain comprehends and you give him a taste of his own medicine, punching him right in the base of the throat. He doubles over immediately, hands clutching his neck as he gasps for breath, wheezing atrociously.

“Jesus fucking Christ.” Marc rushes to Justin, resting his hand on his friends back as he stares at you with wide eyes. Ryan is still silent, just watching as you drop to your knees beside Ashton.

He’s curled up on his side, hands over his head as his entire body shakes. You can hear him sniffing and you know there are tears rolling down his cheeks. You take a deep breath and reach out, your own hands quivering as you stroke his hair.

“Ash, I’ve got you.” you murmur quietly. You gently pull his arms away from his face, observing the damage done with a empathetic wince. His glasses are broken, one lens shattered. There’s a deep purple and pink bruise spreading over his cheek bone and his lip is split, blood staining his teeth and rolling down his chin. “You’re okay, you’re okay.” You help him sit up, stroke the tears from his cheeks with gentle swipes of your thumbs.

“You can’t be fucking serious?” Ryan’s voice is hard, as though you’re the one in the wrong.

You make sure Ashton can hold himself up, which he can, before you stand up again and turn around. “What is your fucking problem?” You growl, stepping up to him. Marc says your name softly, as if in warning, but you don’t listen. Justin is still coughing and sucking in breath after breath and you can’t believe that there are no teachers supervising the hall, but you’re using it to your advantage now.

“This.” Ryan glares, thrusting his hand in Ashton’s direction, “You want this thing over me?”

You step up to him, pushing your hands against his chest, “And you’re fucking surprised?” you yell, “This is what you do and you think I could ever want you.” you push him again and this time his hands come up and grip your biceps.

“Stop.” He demands, “Just forget about this, come to the party. I’ll leave the kid alone.”

“You will leave him alone.” You snarl, “You want something, try being a better person for once.”

“(Y/N)” Ashton says from behind you, you throw a look over your shoulder to see that he’s standing up, bracing himself against the locker with his arm across his stomach.

“Ryan, go home. If you don’t get out of my sight and get that arsehole away from me, you won’t like what happens.”

“Fucks sake!” he snaps, letting you go. He throws his friends a look, “Come on.” He grunts at them before the three walk away, Justin giving you a cautious look as he passes.

As soon as they are gone you turn your attention back to Ashton, stepping up to him and cupping his face gently in your hands. You survey the damage again, shaking your head in disbelief. “I am so sorry.”

“Its n-not your fault.” His bottom lip wobbles and it must of hurt because his face screws up in pain. “I-I’m just go-going to go h-h-home.” A fat tear rolls down his right cheek and you can almost feel the heat of his blush.

“No, please…come back to mine. Let me clean you up.” Guilt floods you until you’re almost drowning. You slide some of his fluffy curls out of his face and wipe at the blood on his chin, although you only manage to spread it across his skin. “I’ve got my car.”

He looks a little conflicted, his eyes flickering down the empty hallway and then back at you standing so close to him. He doesn’t meet your eyes for long and you know he’s embarrassed even though he has no reason to be. He just nods, not trusting himself to speak. You grab his backpack from the floor and sling the strap over your shoulder, cursing quietly when it catches on your hair. Ashton hasn’t moved and you wonder whether he’s in shock or just too mortified, you take his hand in yours and his whole body jolts, his eyes clearing suddenly.

“Let’s go.” You say softly and lead him out. His hand is clammy but his fingers tighten around yours as you make your way through the near empty parking lot.

The drive home takes fifteen minutes usually but today it takes ten. You pull into the driveway and notice that neither of your parent’s seem to be back yet, then you vaguely remember them muttering about a work party over breakfast this morning. You’re thankful because explaining what happened would just embarrass Ashton further, plus your mum would demand to clean him up herself and you’d snap at her to leave you be. He’s still holding that spot on his stomach as he shuffles towards your front door, you unlock it, pushing it open and letting him step inside first.

“Kitchen.” You say as you walk through the living room, desperate to hold his hand again, just to make sure he knows you’re here for him. You pour him a glass of cold water as he props himself up against the dining room table and hand it to him. “Drink.” You demand and a soft chuckle escapes him, sounding more like whoosh of air then an actual laugh.

“Thank you.” he raises the glass to his mouth, eyebrows furrowing as it touches his lip. He downs the entire thing and sets it on the table afterwards.

You heave a sigh, unsure of where to begin as you step up to him, your fingers touching the hem of his plain black tee. You raise it slightly, smiling as his eyes widen, “Take this off, let me see the damage under here.” You pull the material up to his chest, biting your lip hard as you take in the sight of his torso. Lean and defined, he’s got grooves outlining his abs that you get the immediately urge to run your tongue along. He lifts his arms and you pull the offending fabric over his head, folding it and resting it on the back of one of the chairs. There’s a small spatter of light hair right between his pecs and his skin is shining ever so slightly with sweat. On his left side, just below his ribs, a fist size bruise is purpling the otherwise golden skin.

“Y-y-y-you d-d-don’t have t-to do this.” He’s more nervous now than ever, his eyes focussed on the floor beside your feet. You realise he still has his broken glasses on, so you remove them from his face, setting them on his bag that you’ve chucked on the table along with everything else.

“I want too.” you brush your fingers lightly over the bruise and hear the air he sucks in between his teeth. “Let’s go get that blood off of you.”

You intertwine your fingers with his and he follows you upstairs, into the bathroom. You get him to sit on the edge of the tub as you rifle through the cabinet above the sink, realising that your family is completely unprepared for any kind of physical injury. You manage to find some antiseptic wipes on the top shelf behind an empty toothpaste box, you pull a few out and turn back to him. He had been looking at you but as soon as you turn his whips his head away. Stepping up to him, you push his legs apart with your knee and move between them, tilting his chin up with your finger so that he has no option but to look at you.

“Have they done this before?” you ask, tenderly dabbing at his red rimmed mouth. The blood has darkened and dried in the cracks of his lip, making it catch against the wipe with each touch.

He tries to shake his head but stops as you catch his chin between your fingers, “No, not this.” He hisses as you clean the cut, his eyes tightening in pain. “T-they push me m-mostly.”

A growl of annoyance rumbles in your throat. You clean the blood from his chin with surer swipes until his skin is free of it. “I’ll get them to stop.”

He raises an eyebrow, “How?” he asks as you drop the used wipe into the bin beside the sink. You’ve cleaned him up as much as possible but you don’t want the excuse to touch him to be gone, so you search the cupboard again and find some bruise relief cream that you had no idea even existed. You definitely did not want to think about why your parents would have something like this available either. “Y-you going to beat them up u-until they stop?”

You face him again, slipping back into your place between his thighs. You squeeze some of the cream onto your finger and rub it softly onto the mark on his cheek. “If I have to.” You say.

He swallows, his eyes scanning your face, cheeks bright red again though you’re not sure why this time. “They’re your friends.” There is a little accusation in his tone that you’re surprised hasn’t come sooner.

You pull a face, your lip curling, “That’s very debatable.” You say, “The girls are my friends, Kyle could probably be class as a mate too, but I struggle with the concept of being friends with Ryan, Justin and Marc.”

“The girl’s aren’t that much different.” Ashton says strongly as your finger swipes cream under the ridge of his bottom lip. His hands are resting on his thighs, fingers pressing into his skin as though he’s trying to control himself somehow.

You meet his eyes, “Sometime’s they’re not but other times they are the complete opposite of what you see. Everyone has dimensions.” You lift a shoulder before sinking to your knees. His gasp is so loud that you have to press your lips together to keep from laughing and his thighs tense so hard you can see it through his jeans. You look up at him from under your lashes as you stroke the salve into the bruise on his stomach.

“E-e-even Ry-ryan?” he groans, blinking frantically as he looks down at you.

You pause, tilt your head as you think of your answer. “Well, maybe not Ryan. That guy is a sociopath.”

Ashton grins, that dimple returning, you can see that it must be uncomfortable but he doesn’t stop. “You’re right.” He says, as you stand again, chucking the tube of cream into the sink. Your rub your hands together, wipe them on your jeans again.

“There you go.” You tilt his chin up again, battling against the urge to lean down and press your mouth to his. When his eyes flick to your own lips, that urge gets even stronger and you’re not sure if you’ve ever wanted to kiss anyone this much. “You’ll be as good as new soon enough.”

His hand comes up and wraps around your wrist, “Thank you.” he whispers, “It was r-really nice of you to d-do this.” His thumb is brushing back and forth over your skin, making you suck in a sharp breath, you feel hot all over and there is a familiar ache starting up throughout your body.

“I wouldn’t have left you there.” You want him to know you’re not like them, “I wouldn’t have let them do that to you if I was there when it all started.”

He smiles at you again, “I know.” He says it with all the confidence in the world and you have to do something.

Your head drops within inches of his and immediately his eyes shoot wide, filling with a mix of fear and anticipation. He gasps too, so you pause, unsure of whether you should do this. Maybe he doesn’t want to kiss you. Maybe he just came for the medical care and wasn’t sure how to turn you down gently.

“C-can I kiss you?” you ask, almost blushing yourself when you stutter. You realise the odd wobbly feeling in your stomach is nerves and that makes this whole thing worse. You haven’t been nervous over a boy since you were twelve.

He frowns and this close you can see that his pupils are blown so wide that there is only a rim of rich whiskey to indicate what colour they normally are. “Y-you want to do that?” he licks at his bottom lip, still managing to avoid tearing it again.

You nod, “I really do.”

“O-okay.” He mutters, tilting his up just a little. “I w-would like that.”

Your mouth curves and you let out the breath that you didn’t realise you were holding. “Thank god.” You sigh happily before you lean in, taking your time before finally touching your lips to his.

He shudders, his hand slipping from your wrist to the sides of your knees, pulling you in closer. Your mouths glide softly against each other and you make sure not to press to hard even though all you want to do is devour him. He tastes like chemicals and a hint of pennies for a few seconds and then he tastes of nothing, so you slip your tongue across the seam of his mouth and hope he’ll open for you. You can feel his hesitation but his lips part the next time they slide against yours and his tongue brushes over yours ever so slightly. You can’t help but smile into the kiss, your heart thumping when he smiles right back. You’re still careful as you lick into his mouth, the tip of your tongue catching on his top lip in one kiss and getting a little deeper in the next, stoking languidly against his. You don’t want to, but you have pull back and straighten up, your lower back aching from your marginally bent over position. Ashton’s tongue touches his lips, following the taste of you. His eyes are hooded and he’s staring at you as though you’re the greatest thing on this planet; you need more of him but you don’t know just how much you can have today.

“Ash…I want to keep kissing you.” you admit.

“I want that too.” He nods, blinking away the haze he seemed to be in.

“Come with me.” You hold your hand out for him and he grips it straight away, standing up. He’s taller than you and you can’t help but press yourself up against him, moulding your bodies together. He holds his breath as you push yourself up on tiptoes, kissing him again.

“Oh my g-god.” He whispers against your mouth.

You grin and lead him out of the bathroom, taking him straight into your bedroom. He stops short when he realises where you are, his hand tightening on yours as he looks around, taking in all the details. You let go of him to close the door and then perch on the edge of your bed as he just stands there, looking anxious again.

“Y-your bedroom.” He says unnecessarily, his adams apple bobbing heavily. He takes in the band posters on your wall with the curled in corners, the textbooks laying open on your desks along with pages of handwritten homework. There are a few photos of family dotted around that you see him take in and then he steps up to the huge bookshelf that holds your novels and an array of DVDs and box sets. You can see the appraising turn of his mouth that makes you smile.

It’s possible that you shouldn’t have brought him in here, you didn’t want him to think you expected anything and you definitely didn’t want him to freak out and not want to kiss you anymore. So you let him have his inspection, watch him tilt his head curiously at the collection of your things.

"Dickens, Tolkien, Firefly.” he speaks with an air of surprise, as though he was expecting piles of Cosmo magazines and 90210 on repeat, both of which you actually liked but they definitely weren’t your foundations. “I think you have some n-nerd in you.” he teases, his eyes flashing with amusement.

You can’t help but smirk, “Not yet I don’t.” you say, shocking even yourself. His eyes widen and he coughs out a strangled laugh, before he turns his face back to the bookshelf. You close your eyes briefly, shaking your head at yourself for letting the words fall from your mouth, though you couldn’t deny that there was something in the way he reacts that makes it almost impossible for you to control yourself.

There’s a few seconds of silence, enough for you to push yourself back into the middle of your bed and think about the best way to go about this. He’s tapping a finger against Buffy season 3 and keeps looking at you out of the corner of his eyes, when your restraint finally shatters.

"Ashton." His name come out as a demand and he immediately turns to face you, wringing his hands together in front of his hips. 

"Yes?" 

"Come over here and kiss me." you demand, then add a sweet, "Please." that does the trick.

He’s slow about it and has to kneel on the bed, practically crawling towards you, just to get close enough. His hands tremble as he cups the side of your neck, thumb braced against your jaw. He’s knows that you’re leaving it down to him now and it seems, at least, like he’s up for the challenge. It’s a few seconds before he finally closes the gap between you, his mouth coaxing a reaction from yours without having to try. His lips are soft but the longer you kiss the harder the force behind them becomes. His body is leaning into yours, his hand slipping to the back of your neck as he surges forward during one of his more confident moments.

You let the movement take you down onto your back. Ashton braces over you on his hands and knees and you know you’d happily take in this view again and again. There’s a spark of uncertainty in his eyes before he leans his head down to kiss you again. It’s different this time, he kisses you greedily as though he doesn’t ever want to stop and it draws a desperate moan from your throat that he copies, only his is deeper.

You slide your hands up his arms, his skin so soft over such hard muscle, his biceps tensing when your fingertips roll over them. You want him closer, want his body plastered against you so that there was not a millimetre of space between the two of you. Thrusting your hands in his hair, you press your mouths together harder, struggling to remember that you need to be careful with him. He doesn’t seem to mind though because in the next instance he drops to his forearms, his stomach flush against yours and your legs tangled. It’s instinct for you to slip your legs apart so his hips can settle between your thighs and the strangled boyish gasp he makes when you do makes it so worth it.

“I love kissing you.” you whisper against his swollen lips, smiling as you move your mouth down across his jaw.

“R-really?” he moans as you suck gently on the underside of his jaw. His hips jolt gently and you can feel that he’s holding everything back by how tense his shoulders and back are as you run your hands down the long curve of his spine, tucking the tips of your digits just under the waistband of his jeans.

“Love it so much.” You say sincerely, because it was the truth. You had a lot of practice kissing people but Ashton’s the first person you’ve kissed and never wanted to stop. The first guy to give you butterflies and make you feel as though your body is on fire and only his hands can cool the aching burn under your skin.

He whimpers as you nip the flesh of his throat and you know he’s a little overwhelmed. “I…love it too.” He shudders, his eyes clenching tightly as you arch up into him, “Love kissing you.” you drag your lips over his skin, licking the hollow at the base of his throat before sucking hard just to the right of his adams apple. A yell bursts from his lips and his hips lurch forward, the obviously ridge of his hard cock behind his jeans slamming against your core and forcing a loud gasp from your own mouth. “I’m sorry!” he sits up, pushing himself back and away from you, practically falling off the bed while it does so.

You push yourself up, he’s still apologising and you wonder what exactly it is he’s apologising for. His cheeks are vivid red and he’s more interested in looking at the floral square on your patchwork bedcover than meeting your eyes. his hands are in his lap, trying to cover the bulge in his jeans but not succeeding very well.

“What’s wrong?” you ask.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean too…I j-just…it f-felt so good.”

You smile gently and crawl towards him, grabbing your chin in his hand and forcing him to look at you, “That was the point. I want to make you feel good.”

He frowns, his eyes focused on your mouth as he licks at his lips, “You do?” he asks as though he never thought it possible.

“I do, but I’m not going to do anything you don’t want me too.” You lean in and press a chaste kiss to his mouth, “Do you want me to make you feel good?” you have to ask but you won’t mind if he doesn’t want to move so fast. It’s strange for you to even be doing this, but there’s something about him that makes you incapable of thinking straight and all you want to do is touch, touch, touch.

He’s silent for a moment, the question going around in his head and the conflict written all over his face. His eyes roam your face, slip down your body and back up again and you swear you can see him press his hand into his crotch. He finally opens his mouth, “What will you do?”

“I would like to touch you.” you place your hand on the side of his neck and then run it down to rest over his pec. “I really want to touch you. Kiss you more too.”

His head nods frantically without hesitation this time, “Okay…o-okay.”

You get him to lie down, head on the pillows as you straddle his thighs, propping your hands against his stomach. You run your hands over his chest, feeling his muscles twitch and tense; he’s sweating slightly but he’s breathing steadily this time, inhaling deeply and then letting the breath slip slowly from his puffy lips. The smile on your face is wholly involuntary, the result of the feelings of excitement and happiness swimming in your chest needing some kind of outlet. Ashton grins up at you through his nerves, his hands gripping your hips as his stomach jumps when your fingertips run softly over his side.

“Tickles.” He explains, sucking the uninjured corner of his lip into his mouth. You stroke your touch just along the waistband of his jeans, dipping them into the hollow of his stomach, the gap between his skin and his jeans from where his hipbones jut out slightly.

Leaning down, you brush your lips over his collarbones and then up the column of his throat before sliding them back down. Just a soft stroke of your mouth over his skin, already littered with small broken pink marks. You keep up with the teasing, moving over his shoulders and down the middle of his chest, his fingers tightening and his back arching slightly as he becomes desperate for more than this.

“(Y/N)” He whines, “…Please?” his hands move up your sides and his hips thrust up into your stomach. He groans thickly as he grinds his hard-on against you, obviously trying to be subtle but there was no way you could miss it even if you tried.

“Please, huh.” You smile against his pec, moving your mouth down to flick your tongue over his nipple. He gasps, pushing his chest up and urging you to do it again. You do, scraping you teeth over the small bud as your fingers graze the stats of his ribs, making him shudder violently. He was so receptive to your touch that you prayed you’d never have to stop. “What do you want?” you ask, pressing yourself down against his cock, grinning again at the rumbling moan it elicited.

His hands fell to the bed, fingers curling in the sheet as you kiss and lick his sides, moving back and forth across the width of his torso. “More!” You move down his body until your tongue traces the same gap between his jeans and his stomach that your fingers had earlier. “Shit!” he groans and you lift your head up, eyes wide with surprise. His head is turned to the side as he watches you, eyes focused on your mouth.

“Someone has a dirty mouth.” You grin, looking forward to teasing more filthy words from him in time. He seems embarrassed, but you know it won’t last long. “I like it.” you kiss the spot below his bellybutton, your fingers tapping the button of his jeans. “Can I?” you ask, looking pointedly down at the straining denim.

“Yes…god yes.” He lifts his hips off of the bed and you have to lean your head back marginally just so that he doesn’t press his covered cock against your face. Not that you would have minded that so much, but you knew it would just mortify him.

“You sure, Ashton?” you ask, looking him in the eyes to make sure that this was what he wanted.

He nods slowly, taking a deep breath. “I think so.” He licks his lips, “Please.” It’s almost a whimper this time, so you smile reassuringly and pop the button of his jeans.

It doesn’t take you long to pull them down his legs and shove them to the floor. Kneeling between then you take in the sight of him, flushed and hard. The ridge of his erection pushing against the thin fabric of his Marvel superhero boxers. The urge to strip them from him is almost overwhelming, but you force yourself to go slowly, stroking circles into the skin of his thighs. You flatten your hands on him and run them in one long swoop up and under the edge of his shorts before taking them out and fingering the waistband.

“Has anyone ever done this to you before?” you ask quietly as you peel the boxers down enough to allow his cock to escape, lying flush against his stomach, rock hard and leaking slowly, blushed as pink as his cheeks.

“N-no.” He mutters quietly, but you only smile at him again.

“Then thank you.” you whisper as you strip him of the boxers and throw them across the room.

A naked Ashton is an amazing sight, one that you hope to see many times. He throws his forearm over his eyes as you lean in to kiss your way from his knee to his hip on one side and then repeat it on the other. You watch as his cock jumps each time your lips touch his skin, feeling a pressure in your chest that was entirely new to you. You want to touch, can barely hold yourself back but you have to when your fingers are poised over his dick.

“Are you ready?”

The arm covering his face comes down, his fingers running over your cheekbone and down your jaw. He’s looking at you with an expression that makes your stomach flip, a small curve to his wobbly mouth. The smell of him is filling your head, heavy and musky, so damn good. His thumb rubs along your bottom lip, moving smoothly with the slickness caused by all your kissing.

“Yeah.” He says, “I wish you had l-less clothes on though.”

You laugh, looking down at your fully clothed body and thinking that he was probably right. This may have been easier for him if you were both as vulnerable as each other. “Will you let me have a taste first?” you look down at him as a needy sound rises in his throat, his hips thrusting up into the air again. A sudden thought of him inside you, madly canting his hips as he fills you up sends a shiver down your spine.

You take his reaction as an affirmative and curl your fingers around the thick base of his cock. He groans, his eyebrows drawing together just as yours do when the pulsing between your legs becomes almost unbearable. He’s hot in your hand and so damn hard. You give him one tight stroke, squeezing a drop of precum from his already wet tip. His mouth parts with a silent gasp, his eyes squeezing shut just for a second before he’s watching you again. You stroke him again, twisting your hand on the upstroke, your smile growing as his thighs twitch.

You can’t hold back any longer, you lean in and lick the glistening head of his cock, the taste of him bursting on your tongue. You’ve done this before of course, but none of those times had tasted as good as Ashton does to you. The way he whimpers and his fists clench harder on the sheets is almost just as sweet. You don’t stop watching him, eyes cast up the length of his body to meet his, as you swirl your tongue delicately over his sensitive skin.

You make it your mission to draw all the best noises and reactions from him. It really doesn’t take much. Wrapping your lips around the tip makes a shocked cry fall from him, sucking and flicking your tongue over the slit makes his entire enticing body shudder, a curse exploding on his tongue. You warm your throat up with shallow bobs of your head that makes one of his hands shoot to your hair, fingers tangled in your locks. He’s trying to keep watching you, but his eyes are closing involuntarily and he gives your hair an accidental tug that forces a moan out of you, one that surges through him and makes him arch his back and let out a louder yell. You can feel that he’s close and you want know what it’s like to have him fill your mouth with his pleasure. You suck harder and ever so slowly ease down onto him, letting him stretch your mouth, your throat, until your lips are pressed to the base of his cock, your nose brushing his stomach. You could do this all day for him.

“FUCK!” his stomach convulses, his thighs jolting. “(Y/N)! Jesus.”

You pull off of him with a loud gasp, taking in the air you’d restricted yourself as he settles. He looks amazing, lying flushed and quivering, pulling in sharp breaths as he looks at you with hooded eyes. His cock resting heavily on his abs, shining wetly. 

You grin at him and his lips curve back at you. You lower your head again, so ready to make him come apart, and lick the thick vein that runs along the side of his dick, you can practically feel it pulsing beneath your tongue. You go to slip your mouth over him again but he stops you.

“Wait.”

You lean back quickly, sitting up and resting your hands just above his knees, “What wrong? Is everything okay?” you ask, worried that maybe he was having second thoughts.

He laughs softly, propping himself up on his elbows, “Yeah, you’re amazing.” His eyes drift down over you, “But I’m too close.”

“That’s okay.” You say, your fingers dancing over his skin, “Kind of the point, actually.” You wink.

His smile only widens, even as his eyes look away timidly. “I…would you…” you peeks up at you again. “Take your clothes off?” it’s almost whispered, he asks so quietly, and there is no denying him.

You slide off of the bed, unbuttoning your shirt and slipping it off, letting it float to the floor. He doesn’t take his eyes off of you as you pull the thin cami you had underneath over your head and then slowly push your jeans down your legs. You stand there in your underwear, matching luckily enough, for a little while, until he can’t take it any longer.

“Please?” he asks, his gaze flicking between your face and your body.

You unclasp your bra and let it fall. His eyes widened at the sight of your breasts, nipples tight with arousal, and he licks at his lips. Just the thought of his mouth sucking and biting at the peaked buds sends a tingle throughout your body. You try to ignore it as you grip the sides of your panties, peeling them down your legs until you can step out of them and stand in front of him completely bare.

“Wow.” He mutters, sitting up further. “You’re beautiful.”

Your stomach flips again and your heart picks up. You can feel the wetness between your legs smear against your inner thigh and you know without a doubt that you’ve never been this turned on before. You’re not entirely sure why but you don’t care, not now. You rush towards him, falling against his body, and take his face between your hands so that you kiss him thoroughly again. You try to straddle him but he rolls you over, his mouth skirting down your neck and your sternum, his tongue creeping over your skin, leaving wet trails in its wake. He leaves soft kisses in the valley between your breasts before lifting himself up so that he could look at them, biting down on his lip as he takes them in.

“You can touch them, y’know.” You giggle, running your fingers through his hair and down over his shoulder.

“Yeah?”

You nod and he lifts a hand, stroking his slightly calloused fingertips over the swell of your chest, circling it around your nipple before his hand grasps the weight of it. He squeezes gently, then harder once he sees how much you like it. He rubs and pinches your nipple, making you moan throatily as waves of barely painful pleasure roll over you. You weren’t expecting his lips to close around it so soon, so when you feel the pressure of his mouth and the warm, wet grasp of it, you arch your whole body up into him, a whoosh of air bursting from your lungs. He suckles in long pulls, his tongue flicking and you think for a second that he was born for this, because it feels so damn good. The sounds coming from you are quiet but constant, small moans and whines as you wordlessly beg him not to stop.

His free hand teases your other breast before he moves his head over to nip it gently. The look on his face is almost as good as his actions, a mix of fascination and manly pride that makes an amused chuckle rise from your chest. He looks up at you from beneath his lashes and gives you a smirk around your nipple that makes your clit pulse strongly. He does to you what you did to him, his mouth moving down over your ribs and across your stomach, nipping and sucking until he reaches your hipbones.

Kneeling back between your legs, he looks down at the place between your legs, his hands pressing your thighs wide open so that he could get a better look. He groans at the sight of your pussy, pink and slick with your excitement, his fingers twitching, ready to touch. He pulls you towards him, sliding your legs over his thighs, his cock bouncing in the air as it dribbles happily. His drifts his fingertips over the rise of your hip, moving down towards the place that you need them the most.

“Can I…touch?” he asks softly, so close and yet so far.

You nod quickly, “Please.” You say, lifting your hips towards him, “Please touch me, Ash.”

He beams, looking down at you, the tip of his tongue sticking out the corner of his mouth as he slides his fingers against the silky skin of your pussy. It’s a teasing touch, a skirting feel that just adds to the ache that’s consuming you. You press your hips down as much as possible but the hand he’s left on your thigh squeezes in warning. He meets your eyes.

“Is this okay?”

You wiggle desperately, “More.”

He has the nerve to wink at you as he lets those abnormally long fingers delves between your folds, two digits running the length of your slit, gathering the juices that are dripping down your cheeks and onto the bed. As if the brief brush of his fingers over your clit wasn’t enough torture, the wink itself made you shudder. You could see his confidence growing by the second, with each arch of your spine and every gasping moan you make. Your reactions to him were fuel to the flame of what was beneath that shy, tense exterior of his, and god you can’t wait until he sheds this shell completely. His fingers continue to stroke, up and down, rubbing over your clit and your lips and your entrance, getting a feel of what he’s done to you. What he has to look forward to.

“So wet.” He murmurs, not taking his eyes off of the place that he’s touching.

You roll your hips as his hand slips up against your clit, trying to get more pressure against it, wanting to feel more. He’s teasing you, whether he knows it or not. “For you.”

“For me.” He agrees, nodding and pressing his fingertips directly over the bundle of nerves currently throbbing between your thighs. He gives a firm rub that makes your legs jerk, sparks flaring up through your body. “Like that?” he asks, a small frown of concentration on his face.

You nod, a soft whimpering sound escaping you even though your teeth are locked down on your bottom lip. He rubs gently, setting up a rhythm with two fingers, circling them with varying pressure. It’s tantalizing and your whole body seems set on vibrate, your clit swelling under his ardent attention. Your eyes drift shut as he flicks the pad of one finger over the sensitive bud, your toes curling as bliss rolls over your, his other hand comes down to spread your pussy a little, just so that he can observe absolutely everything.

“Fucking amazing.” He groans quietly, watching his soaking fingers tease you for a second longer before they slip down to rub against your entrance, not sliding inside but threatening to.

“Start with one.” You moan, shifting your hips down, desperate to feel him inside of you.

“Okay.” He traces his index finger in small circles around your hole before slowly, so slowly, dipping inside. Your mouth falls open as he slides his finger all the way in and immediately you want more. He’s watching where you’re joined with fascination, his eyes hazy with lust as he wiggles the tip of his finger in you, firing up all nerves within. “You’re so warm.” He says breathily, his chest rising and falling quickly, his cock looking painfully hard.

He grinds that finger against your upper wall, sending a wave of pleasure over you that’s strong enough to make your thighs clamp shut around his hand, your hips rising completely off of the bed as you moan thickly.

“Hey.” His mouth upturns as his eyes catch yours, he shoves your legs apart again, withdrawing his finger then gently thrusting it back in.

The fluttering of your stomach muscles is a sign of things to come. It’s not enough right now, just one finger, it’s barely a pigeon step towards the edge but it’s still a step in the right direction and you’re so worked up that you’re grateful for anything. Your hands grab at the bedcovers as his finger leaves you again, your teeth grinding as your body thrums for more.

“More Ash. Another.” You sigh.

“Yeah?” he licks his lips, touching the tips of his middle and index finger against your entrance. “You sure?”

You can’t tell if he’s actually doubting whether you want him to do this or if he is just teasing you yet again. “So fucking sure!” you groan, “Please Ashton.”

He likes it when you say please, likes it even more when you say his name, you can tell by the look on his face and the fact that his fingers are pushing forward, stretching you open. This time it’s a little uncomfortable, it’s been a long time for you, but you love the slightly painful pull of your body accepting his.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” The words are involuntary as your back curves up, breasts thrusting towards the ceiling.

Ashton buries his fingers to the knuckle, his thumb swiping over your clit, rubbing the plump button until your chest heaves, air expelling from your lungs in quick huffs. “You’re so beautiful, (Y/N).” He says, his voice loaded with desire, “I can’t believe this is happening.”

You want to reply, want to reassure him that you’re just as amazed, just as hopeful that this is a mere beginning to a long and pleasurable relationship, but he’s moving his fingers now. Up and down, come-hither motions that nudge right up against a spot inside of you that makes you see stars. A loud keen bursts from your throat and you shove the back of your wrist against your mouth to keep quiet. Through almost blurry vision, you can see that Ashton’s mouth is curved into a pleased grin, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly as you try to silence yourself. He finger fucks you faster, his thumb dancing mercilessly against your clit. The up-down motion turns into back and forth, his fingers plunging in and out of you, brushing your g-spot every time. You can’t help but thank god for the excessive porn available these days, because he must have picked some of this up from it.

“Ashton!” you yelp, your thighs quaking. You clench down on his digits without meaning too, your body being overtaken by pleasure which is worsened by your tightening grip on him, making you moan wildly, a sound you’d be embarrassed of if you could think straight.

“God, that’s so tight.” He groans, give a hard thrust that shoves you to the edge, making you teeter, so close to ultimate euphoria.

“Fuck.” You gasp, “I’m gonna come.” You suck in sharp, shuddering breath.

His eyes widen comically, his thumb flicking against a spot to the left of your clit that practically ends you right there. “Seriously?” he asks, boyish wonder in his tone.

You nod, breathless. Your body is throbbing feverishly, your muscles quivering and tensing as they ready themselves for your release. You just need a little more, a final push, “Harder!” you plead.

He rubs faster at your clit before slamming his long fingers into you, the lithe appendages pounding against every needy nerve, reaching each spot. It’s seconds before your climax begins and you’re fucking yourself down on his hand, meeting every thrust when your pussy squeezes down on him, tightening like a vice. Your eyes clench shut as your walls flutter and then finally explode, contracting around his wonderful fingers again and again. The pulses overwhelming you, making you throw your head back with a moan so loud that you’re eternally glad that no one is home.

Your hips drop back down to the bed as you settle, not having realised that you’d raised them in the first place. You draw in lungfuls of air, opening your eyes and giving him a satiated smile. He keeps looking between your face and your pussy, an expression of surprised awe on his face. He drifts his thumb softly over your abused clit and your whole body jolts, aftershocks making your walls tremble around him again.

“Wow.” He breaths, sliding his fingers from you gently, “That was amazing.”

You chuckle tiredly, “You’re telling me.” He looks at his hand, his fingers practically dripping with your come, intrigue written all over his beautiful face. He lifts them to his mouth and sucks them in to the first knuckle. A groan leave your lips and you’re immediately wide awake and desperate for more, so turned on by the sight of him tasting you, especially when his neglected cock jumps. “Do you want to fuck me?” you ask, your voice rasping.

He drops his hand, tongue swiping at his lips. He looks thoroughly guilty when he nods his head, “I d-do.” He swallows nervously again, thinking too much, “But we don’t have to…”

“I want to.” You say, your hand slipping down our sweat slick body, reaching for him. He tangles your hands together, the same one that had made you orgasm, and you can’t help but tease him further, bringing his hand up to your mouth and suckling on those same fingers.

“Holy shit!” his hips snap forward, his cock spearing the air, looking tight and leaking like there’s no tomorrow. “I’ve…I’ve never…”

You release his fingers from between your lips, moving them to your nipple which he pinches at straight away. “S’okay. We don’t have to if you’re not ready.” You say softly, “I’m not going anywhere, even if we don’t have sex.” It seems like he relaxes suddenly, his tight shoulders dropping. He’s strung, wound up tight and you can tell he’s as nervous as hell again, although you wouldn’t expect anything else.

“I really w-want to.” He shuffles even closer, his thighs spread either side of your arse, his cock suspended over you. Strings of translucent pre-cum dripping onto the tight strip of curls at the juncture of your thighs. “I…I don’t think I’m g-going to l-last very long.” he mumbles, looking down at your stomach as his hands settle on the nip of your waist.

You reach down and poke his abs, getting him to meet your eyes, “That’s perfectly okay and perfectly normal.”

“Yeah?”

“Of course.” You grin reassuringly, “But no pressure.”

He squeezes your sides, his lips spreading into a genuine closed-mouthed smile. “I definitely want to.”

You laugh happily, excited to feel his gorgeous dick filling you up. Twisting onto your side, you stretch your arm out towards the bedside table, yanking the drawer open as Ashton’s hand slides over your butt, fingers groping greedily. You search blindly for the forgotten condoms that are in there somewhere, your fingers slipping against the foil packaging when you finally find one.

You turn back, sitting up as you tear it open. Ash watches you, obliging when you tilt your head up, pouting for a kiss. It’s slow and gentle, your lips slotting together as you roll the condom onto his cock. You swallow his groan before his hand pushes your shoulder, forcing you down onto your back. You smirk up at him, wagging you eyebrows.

“Feisty.”

He scoffs a laugh, shaking his head at you as his palms spreads your thighs as wide as they can go. He pauses then, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth as he looks up at you. Reaching between your legs, you stroke whispers of circles against your clit, the intense sensitivity of your climax having calmed enough for you to touch yourself. You don’t push him, don’t try to encourage him any more than you already have. You don’t want to have to convince him to get inside of you, you want him to make that final move.

He grips the base of his cock, swiping the head along your slit before he positions himself at your entrance. “Do I just…” you nod, not answering verbally, and he takes a deep breath before finally pushes into you.

He’s wider than two of his fingers, so that aching stretch is back and you can’t help but gasp. He’s doing the same, his jaw clenching as he tries to restrain himself. He slides in as much as he can, then leans over you, his hands resting flat either side of your head as he pushes in the rest of the way, bottoming out. His heavy balls are pressed right up against you and you’re trying to get used to feeling as though he’s so far inside of you it would be a miracle if you’d ever be able to be with anyone else without comparing.

You fold your arms around his neck, on hand pressing down between his shoulder blades as he buries his face against your throat. His breath his hot against your damp skin, his lips searing your flesh as his hair tickles you. He groans, the sound deep, vibrating through you. You tilt your hips up, wrapping your legs around his waist.

“Fuck.” He grunts in your ear, “God, you feel so good.” His hips draw back marginally and then plunge forward again. A testing thrust that makes you moan, and makes you realise just how well you went together, if this is what it feels like now you can’t wait until he pounds you into oblivion.

You grasp a handful of his hair, pulling his head up so that you can look him in the eyes. His arms shake slightly but he doesn’t stop holding himself up, doesn’t stop looking at your face as he begins to thrust properly, a continuous movement that builds an addictive pressure in your lower stomach.

“Ash…” you pant, face scrunched. He withdraws almost all the way before pistoning forward, the sound of his skin slapping against yours filling the room. The heady scent of sex wafts through your room, adding to the sensation of Ashton’s cock filling you. “Kiss me?” you whisper.

He grins, his eyes half-lidded as he drops his head, his mouth kissing you sloppily. The noises you’re both making sound almost unreal, the groans and gasps, the cursing, all mixed in with the crude wet sounds of him plunging in and out of you. It’s almost obscene and completely great. His damp curls stick to his forehead and he blows out a harsh breath, his hips stuttering and his body tensing. The frown wrinkling his forehead is too deep for your liking and so you shift beneath him, pushing him back slightly so that you can rest the backs of your knees against his shoulders. The change makes his entire face slacken, his mouth dropping open as you tighten around his dick.

“Oh…fuck…fuck.” he whimpers, unable to control himself much longer. He rams into you, almost shoving you up the bed and making your breasts jiggle violently. The pressure in your loins cranks up with each slamming thrust, your fingers digging into his biceps hard enough to bruise. “I…” he looks so conflicted.

You link your hands behind his neck, smiling up at him through the haze that’s fogging your mind slightly. “Come for me, baby.” You moan and he’s done. His arms drop a little, his forehead resting against yours as he thrusts into you to the hilt, his body tensing as a yell rips from his throat.

You watch him as he comes, watch the way his face screws up at the initial pulse, relaxing every second after. His eyelashes flutter and his lips quiver and the noise he makes is the very portrayal of bliss. You’ll do anything to see him like this a million times over. Once he’s catching his breath, you let your legs fall back down to the bed, ignoring the cramp that threatens to get painful. You kiss him. Licking your way into his mouth again, keeping him from thinking too much. You want him to enjoy his afterglow. It’s a few minutes later when you break apart and he pulls out of you gently, removing the condom and chucking it in the trashcan you point at.

“Come back here.” You pull him back down, smiling as he chuckles, and curl up against him, resting your chin on his chest so that you can still look at his face. “I hope you enjoyed that.”

His cheeks flush, “I really did.”

Laughing, you press a kiss to his chest, “I’m glad. It felt so good.”

His mouth wobbles, his eyes becoming unsure, “It did?” he asks, “I mean…you didn’t…”

“No.” You say softly, honestly, knowing exactly what he’s getting at. “But it would have been a frigging miracle if I had after the first one, plus you were on edge and it was your first time. It still felt good and I want to do it again and again.”

He’s smiling again now, the dimple in his cheek flashing you, “You do?” he sighs in relief, “Really?”

“Definitely!” you lean over him, pressing a chaste kiss to his mouth that makes you both beam. “I hope you do too. I hope you might want more than this too.”

His eyes are bright with excitement as he nods his head, “I really want more…I…I want you.”

“Well you have me.” You wink, “We really should go on a date though.”

“We could shower and, y’know, go to dinner.” He sounds almost confident now, knowing that you’re not going to reject him or make fun of him. His smile makes your heart swell and the aches he’s left on your body fill you with a contentment you’ve never had before. You’re smiling so wide your jaw hurts.

“Race you to the bathroom.” You giggle, jumping over him and off the bed, his laugh following yours as he races after you.


End file.
